


Ash and Heat

by OpheliaAlexiou



Series: Tales of War: Ares [1]
Category: Greek Mythology, Hellenic Mythology
Genre: Anal Sex, Ancient Greece, Consensual, Consensual Kink, Consensual Sex, Consent, Demigods, Erotica, Explicit Consent, Gender Issues, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Historical Fantasy, Oral Sex, Other, Persia, Pregnancy, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sex, Susa - Freeform, Trans Character, Trans Female Character, Vaginal Sex, historical fiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 04:25:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9531407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpheliaAlexiou/pseuds/OpheliaAlexiou
Summary: In the Persian provinces of the Hellenic Empire, in the third year of the Common Era, Ares answers the prayer of a young trans woman of the Empire.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place in my Olympian Legends universe, in which I've written a few novels, and in which I'll be writing & releasing multiple short stories about the gods and their experiences over a couple thousand years that separate antiquity from modernity.

The day was bright and balmy in the Persian provinces of the Hellenic Empire, and Gulbahar found themselves sitting upon the roof of one of the many tall buildings of Susa. Staring out across the fertile panoply of the Persian landscape, the desert's lushness renewed by Gaia in decades and centuries past, as temples of the gods were built, the eighteen-year-old felt more peace up here than in most of the city. It wasn't because the people were bad, necessarily, though certain new cults were trying to stir up dissension or small-mindedness, but the gods were not tolerant of false gods or false prophets. Particularly, not of such falsehoods which denounced them as false and sought to corrupt their faiths and followers for nefarious ends.

 

No, Gulbahar's complaint for their life was one more attuned to the nature of their body; more specifically, three immodest “endowments,” resting between the thighs. Not that his body was not blessed with good size, but it was not the body desired or correct to the mental state of the bearer. Were Gulbahar but the masculine sort, jewels each as large as a raven's egg and a phallus as long as their forearm would certainly have been points of pride. Given the Empire's deep cultural appreciation for the beauty of the human form and by extension nudity in all manner of art, the eighteen-year-old had done remarkably well for themselves, already, simply by posing unclothed. Still, they would rather have posed with a form that was feminine over one that was masculine, especially in this part of the world. Persian men were beautiful and bronze, though perhaps not near so beautiful as some of the gods, in particular the one that Gulbahar favoured.

 

As Gulbahar sat on the roof of the tall structure, eyes sank from the horizon and in the warmth of the sun, lowered to look at a statue of Ares, sculpted of marble as the war-god stood in all his glory. Nude by nature, aside from the sculpting of a rather stylish helm, imperial sculpture had abandoned modesty in favour of realism. No more were the statues dishonoured with an inaccurately small, soft endowment – the statue of Ares was life-size, standing on the roof with a spear in one hand, a shield in the other, and twelve inches of phallic shaft rising proudly from his hips. Positioned standing on a small block of stone, of the sort wider than it was tall and designed only to give the god's statue stability so that it would not fall, the statue stood in a position that made it accessible to any who wished to pray to Ares. Gulbahar's teeth clamped lightly onto the lower lip for a moment, before deciding that they would pray once more, and would do so this time in the nymphic tradition, and pray for something they hadn't previously requested. Looking about momentarily, Gulbahar quietly removed their clothes and folded them neatly into a stack, before approaching the statue of Ares.

 

Kneeling, eyes of verdant olive green rose, sliding up the muscled calves and thighs to fix on the large jewels and, then, that impressive shaft of stone, rising above them. The nymphic traditions had become popular in the heartland of the Empire just around two centuries ago, and had spread gradually over the interim until they were beginning to be popular even in Persian provinces. Perhaps it was the reason for the statue before which Gulbahar now knelt, as nude as the statue itself, focusing all vision on the phallic shaft directly in front of their face. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, and then, leaned forward until she felt the cool stone press against her lips, eyes fluttering open and tongue slipping out to lick up the shaft to the head. Her own cock was hardening between her legs as she tentatively lifted her hands, sliding them up over the cool marble of Ares' calves, then thighs, then hips, lifting up on her knees and beginning to worship the cock of her god with more zeal.

 

“Ares, god of warfare and battle,” Gulbahar's masculine voice moaned softly against the stone as she licked it, drawing her tongue across the length of it, letting her lips and tongue slide down to Ares' impressive jewels.

 

“Ares, god of courage and loyalty,” she continued, her voice a softly masculine murmur as she kissed and licked the shaft of her god's statue worshipfully. Even as she continued, the statue became ever so faintly more animate, the cock angling just a tiny bit forward, downward, permitting her to worship more thoroughly, more dutifully.

 

“Ares, god of honour and valour,” Gulbahar continued, kissing and licking the shaft on all sides, eyes fluttering – sometimes open, sometimes shut, murmurs of desire resonating into the stone as her own cock grew achingly hard.

 

“Ares, god of justice and protector of women,” she murmured fervently before her lips wrapped around the head of the shaft and took it into her mouth, tongue rolling around it adamantly. She hadn't noticed the cock angling slowly downward, but it was now angled down enough that she could take it in her mouth, could suck on it. She took that as all the encouragement to continue her prayer that was needed, taking it into her mouth and sucking hard, rolling her tongue worshipfully around it, as she closed her eyes. Her lips travelled slowly but steadily up and down the length, bobbing her head on as much of it as she could get into her mouth. Her eyes fluttered a bit as she felt a pair of strong but wonderfully gentle hands on her hips, all of a sudden, and a cooling sensation rippled through her as she heard a voice in her ear. A whisper in a tone masculine, one that was strong and commanding.

 

“Don't stop, take it all, Ash. Suck it, take it to the hilt and swallow it all, and you'll have what you desire,” came the voice to her rear, as her hips were lifted to present her ass. She blushed, back arching as she felt cool, slick fingers sliding inside her, as she tightened her grip on the statue's hips and started to sway herself against it, sucking hard as she stone phallus slid into her virgin throat. Eyes watered as she choked and coughed around it, but didn't hesitate to continue her nymphic prayer even as the one behind her continued to prepare her for his cock with oiled fingers. She moaned gently on that cock, even while a large cock pressed against her ass as her voice vibrated the stone rod, but even with all of her effort, she was having trouble getting twelve inches down her throat.

 

“Don't worry, girl, I'll help you if you want. Do you want help, Ash? Does my little slut want help taking it all?” the voice of the male behind her whispered strongly into her ears, even without being lying down against her. She moaned gently on that large cock in her mouth, vibrating it with an affirmation, as she felt hands on her hips tighten, felt the tip of a cock pressing firmly against her ass. Eyes widened and she groaned when that cock moved forward, thrusting into her forcefully while she was swaying herself against the cock, forcing her body forward until the full length was in her throat. Her cheeks were wet, eyes watering heavily as her throat stretched around the cock inside it, arms wrapped around the statue's waist so firmly that she could clasp her hands together on the far side. Even as her eyes watered, she kept them open as she stared at the smooth marble pelvis of the statue whose cock she was sucking, staring through watery distortions as she saw a strange red light on both of her arms, travelling up her arms and over her skin. Behind her, her partner's cock was buried to the hilt inside of her, and hands slid up from her hips to her torso, then her chest, pressing palms against her nipples.

 

“That's a good little nymphic slut, you're a good girl, Ash,” praised her partner behind her, unseen but whose identity wasn't the least bit a question to her mind. She found the name he gave her was better than her birth name, and as she felt his hands on her chest, she whimpered softly on the cock buried to the hilt, and he bucked his hips firmly.

 

“Keep sucking, my beautiful little whore,” he encouraged, and her eyes fluttered before her tongue resumed sucking hard on it, feeling her chest swell with arousal and satisfaction. Eyes fluttered further when she realized he was not pressing palms to her chest, but rather cupping her breasts, even though before today she hadn't had breasts. She closed her eyes as she kept sucking hard, feeling him sliding out of her then back inside of her, though the sensation was new and different, completely unlike any sensation she'd previously experienced.

 

“Unclasp your hands, slut,” Ares ordered, and Ash's hands immediately relaxed, sliding back to the hips of his statue, and he pulled back, pulling her back a bit so she could breathe, before thrusting into her once more. As he thrust hard and fast, Ash felt herself sway forward, taking him to the hilt front and back at the same time. He pulled back once more, then thrust hard again, breaking her into a rhythmic fuck that took her mouth and hips for his pleasure, equally, moaning gently himself even as he hammered into her hard, soliciting matching, increasingly feminine, sounds from her. Finally, he pulled back and gave a single final thrust, before she felt her partner's release surging inside of her in two separate paths, arriving at two separate destinations.

 

“Swallow, Ash,” Ares instructed, and she swallowed hard around the length in her throat, before he pulled back, and pulled her hips backward as well, sliding her off the phallus of his statue. It emerged from her mouth dry, angling up once more to the sky as it left her lips, in a smooth and graceful movement until it arched elegantly to the sky. His hands caressed over an altered torso and breasts, down to her hips once more, as he dismissed all the moisture of sex with the wave of one hand and then pulled her up into a standing position. Lips touched the left nape of her neck, as palms cupped her breasts firmly, albeit also gently.

 

“Very good, Ash; very good. You have earned your reward, and more; you will give birth to two sons, who will be my sons and yours. The first to emerge will be Ashtad, and the second shall be Omid,” Ares whispered into her ears, and Ash nodded her understanding.

 

“I understand. Thank you, for everything, Ares,” she whispered softly, feeling his arms around her, feeling both safer and far more at peace than she could remember feeling. She hadn't intended a pregnancy to come of it, but then again, no part of her felt displeased at the prospect of being the mother to two of the sons of her chosen god.

 

“Are you sure of their names, though, my lord?”

 

“Ashtad is a name meaning justice in the language of your people, and Omid a name meaning hope in the same. I believe in justice, and I believe that justice should stir hope, not despair, in the people,” Ares whispered in her ear, “And I need not put their names in the language of my people for them to be still my sons, and proudly so.”

 

“Understood, my lord, and thank you, again.”

 

“You are quite welcome, Ash. Be safe in the knowledge, that I am watching over you,” Ares said, before fading away subtly, or leastwise, more subtly than he did in most cases. A silent disappearance, rather than a boisterously voluminous departure. Once he was gone, Ash noticed that her clothes had been transformed as well; no more would she be forced to wear the garb of men. Instead, Ares had left her a tasteful robe that bore the markings of his symbol, and declared her now as a priestess of Ares; her fingers brushing gently over the embroidery of his icon. Still nude, she walked to his statue once more, kneeling to her god and kissing his cock gently.

 

“Thank you Ares. I love you.”

 

Then, rising, she wreathed her body in the raiment he had provided, gentle white cotton that seemed to glow ever so faintly, though perhaps that was simply the sunlight, and marked with the symbol of Ares. Once dressed, she knelt briefly to her god once more, kissing his cock lovingly on the tip, then rose and departed from the rooftop, one hand moving to her stomach as she thought of the honour she'd been given. Not only granted the prayer for a feminine form by her god, but even more still, given the privilege to carry her god's children into the world. She was, as far as she knew, the first Persian woman to receive such an honour; no son of Ares had been born outside of the heartland of the Empire, thus far.

 


End file.
